Book review – Iris Murdoch – “Under the Net” #IMReadalong

I noticed I was a little nervous about posting this first review, under the bright gaze of all the people who are joining me in this readalong. So I think it would probably be useful to state here and now that I’m very much not setting myself up as some kind of expert: Murdoch is my favourite author and I get a lot out of reading her, but I am a fan more than I’m a scholar. And these threads and this project welcomes everyone’s opinion: the expert professors and researchers who have read everything multiple times and spent an academic lifetime studying literature in general, Murdoch in particular, the fans like me, the first-time reader and the person who doesn’t get what the fuss is about. While I’d rather keep things positive than inspire a well-spring of anti-Murdoch ranting, I am very clear (and should be, given my own research on the value of the “common reader”) that everyone’s opinions are equally valid. I hope we all approach this project in a spirit of sharing and that dissent, where it arises, is respectful.

By the way, thank you to the people who have kindly shared their book cover images with me. I will use these in my round-up post at the end of the month.

OK, on to the review.

Iris Murdoch – “Under the Net”

(14 October 2017)

It’s always a good sign when you’re rereading a book for the umpteenth time and you STILL can’t put it down, isn’t it (I recall my husband asking me why I was gasping at a point in “Jane Eyre” when I’d clearly read it a million times before). I read this alongside said husband, so tried to keep to an even pace, but really, I could have sat and read and read and READ.

In essence, the thing that really struck me this time (and I think this is my fourth time of reading – once in my teens, once in my 20s, in around 2008 when doing my last readalong and now, and having, I suppose, read all of her other books more recently than I had at each other reading of this one) was that it felt so very much like an overture, a distillation of all her themes. Of course I know that she did not go back in time and write this one last, as composers do with overtures, weaving in her themes, but it felt weirdly like that.

The themes I spotted in this book, recognised with glee, included: London, London vs. Paris, animals, siblings, pairings, opposites, pubs, river/wild swimming, artificial women, coils of hair, hairstyle changes, farce, complicated plans and procedures (the entry into the hospital in particular), stones (OK, one monolith), humans needing to live by “clear practical means”, Jewish people and Irish people, men with massive head, philosophers, “good” people absorbing pain and information (I’m thinking Mrs Tinckham here), Eastern objects and Buddhas, the virtue of detachment, pondering life in front of art works, Hamlet, weird sidekicks (Finn), institutions (the cold cure clinic, the theatre, the hospital), depictions of working life, chaotic rooms. I always felt that Murdoch’s oeuvre revisited many themes over and over: there are few here that are missing (incest, the sea, (although water obviously still figures), country vs city) but it’s really striking how many of them are already here.

Jake reminded me of Charles Arrowby from “The Sea, The Sea”, in his pronouncements, maybe more than Bradley in “The Black Prince”. And his description of Anna very much reminded me of descriptions of Hartley: “She was plumper and had no defended herself against time. There was about her a sort of wrecked look which was infinitely touching. Her face, which I remembered as round and smooth as an apricot, was become just a little tense and drawn, and her neck now revealed her age” (p. 41).

It is also a funny read – with Jake and Hugo arranging “to have the cold alternately” in the cold cure clinic (p. 71), Jake asking himself whether he belongs to the social class that steals tins of foie gras (he does), and having a morbid fear of losing his trousers. I had remembered this but had forgotten some of the concentration on romance, chasing a woman he thinks is Anna through Paris, and falling on Sadie with a whoop (not that romantic, as such), having considered it to be more about male friendship, philosophy and London adventures. Is there another character like Mrs Tinckham in the whole of Iris Murdoch’s novels?

I felt that Jake had accepted the contingent at the end, not knowing the answer and being happy – even amused – not to know. I don’t think I’d have thought that before, as that follows me having done more reading and conference-attending. So it’s very nice to feel that my engagement with the secondary literature and the IM Society have informed my reading. The author of the Introduction to this book (I bought these new copies in part for their introductions) considers this to be her best novel: I’m not sure I agree with that, but I did very much enjoy it, and I can’t wait to read on.

Matthew’s views

My husband is not going to read all of the novels alongside me: he has already read and loved “The Sea, The Sea” and “A Good Apprentice” and not loved “The Book and the Brotherhood”. He read this on audio book (read by Samuel West, as noted by a commenter on my first post – thank you – and had some comments to make, which I summarise below. He’s very much not an Iris Murdoch reader and although he’s read Russian classics prefers sci fi and modern novels to mid-century stuff, to give some background. He states he would not have come across IM, much less read her, without my influence.

Was Finn real? That was a great question I’ve never considered before! And who was the person Jake was considering going to live with at the end? Do they (like Hugo Bellfounder) pop up in another novel? He also thought Jake seemed like Charles Arrowby at the start, but became less self-centred. The book didn’t seem like it was written by a woman (when pressed, he said he didn’t feel the empathy he’d expect from a female writer). They are definitely books that need analysing and you can understand why people want to read them more than once. They don’t give up their secrets or intentions easily. The philosophy and politics went over his head, but then he’s not particularly interested in those for the sake of it.

OK, over to you! Please feel free to either place your review in the comments, discuss mine or others’, or post a link to your review if you’ve posted it on your own blog, Goodreads, etc. I will gather these together in a round-up post at the end of the month. If you have a cover image to share, please post it on your blog or email it to me using the email address on the contact form. I’d love to know how you’ve got on with this one and what you think of it, and if you read it having read others of Murdoch’s novels or this was a reread, I’d love to hear your specific thoughts on those aspects.

That list of themes is hilarious! I’ve only read 4 Murdochs, but some of the elements you mention ring true and make me look forward to starting this. The Sea, the Sea is my favourite of the ones I’ve read, so I should get on with this Jake character. (I tried to get my husband to read The Sea, the Sea last year — he was going to the Isle of Wight and asked me for a “sea” book; I thought it was a great suggestion! — but he only got partway through.)

That’s funny about your husband wanting a “sea” book, thought that would be a classic. The list of themes is quite funny when you put it all down in one clump, isn’t it! I’ll look forward to your thoughts and a link to your review when you’ve got through your other responsibilities.

Don’t be nervous – whatever you have to say about Murdoch will be fascinating. And thank you for getting Mr. Liz to share his views too! I decided to pass on this one, having tried and failed with it twice (and I really don’t know why). I will attempt to drop in later! 🙂

I’ve just picked up my (rather sad looking) little library copy and will begin in earnest today, aiming for a couple of chapters each day, or so. As usual, I was surprised (this happens over and over – I never learn) by how accessible and inviting it was on opening. I’ve even read this book before, and others of hers, but I always expect her to be off-putting and hard work. And she’s not.

I have finished the book (it’s the second time I’ve read this one) and I’m working on my “review” which I fear is growing over long and bit scattered. I don’t have a blog but will decide a way to post it in a day or two. I enjoyed it immensely, probably even more than the first time I read it.

I’ve just finished my [re]read of Under the Net, which – amazingly – was actually the first IM book I ever read! That was back in the summer of 1985, when I was 22. At that time in my life, it didn’t make much of impression upon me, and it was definitely NOT the IM novel that turned me on to her work. I liked it much more this time around. I was a jejeune 22, and there are subtleties and depths below the surface of Under the Net that were not available to me at that time. I especially was interested this time around in the obsession that narrator Jake feels for the mysterious and magus-like Hugo Belfounder – the latter a type of character who appears again and again throughout Murdoch’s novels. Parts of the book did seem to be a little “undercooked” in comparison with some of her later fiction – particularly the female characters. (I still don’t have the difference down between the sisters Annie and Sadie.) But the conclusion of Under the Net is very wise, and clearly foreshadows the ending of many subsequent novels. The central character, at the conclusion of various and sundry adventures, is stripped of illusions and deprived of a love object, but sadder and more thoughtful, he better able to see the world and himself in a truthful manner.

Thank you for your review, and particularly for contrasting your first reading of it with now. I’m pretty sure I just read it as a bit of an adventure and one that I understood a bit more than “Severed Head”, which was my first. I agree that Hugo is like a prototype Enchanter, allowing people to create him as an enchanter, as they all do to an extent. And yes, I put it that Jake had accepted contingency and not knowing by the end, but what you say is a more full version of that. I’m glad you enjoyed this one!

Artificial women as a theme. One of the things I always remember about this book is Jake’s reactions to female beauty. There’s a great quote which I’ll paraphrase badly about her applying a peach like mask until her face was as smooth as alabaster. The scene where he visits Sadie in the hairdressers and she has the hairdryer over her head, I think he teases out a lot of things about female beautification that are unnatural and a little bit frightening, but which are also linked to what he truly believes and what might truly be the real personalities of those characters. They mask and hide in those ways because they need to make use of that artifice somehow or they have motives behind it.

Also find it interesting that a lack of empathy in the novel makes it seem less like women’s writing. There are slight gender bias issues there, which I’m not criticising anyone for as much gender bias exists in minor ways like that and it’s easy to do, but to say that empathy is a requirement to make the novel feminine. I know what that means but I wonder why we assign masculine and feminine in those ways and why it matters that much when Murdoch obviously was female and wrote what I think are very complex female characters, if seen mostly through male eyes. But then I suppose we could then say why does the gender of the author matter at all and why do we look for a gender in the essence of the novel in the first place.

Thank you for your thoughts. I definitely find a theme of painted and dyed women and them being alarming and “wrong” in some way, she definitely has something to say about this. Regarding the empathy thing, that was forced out of my husband when trying to explain why he felt IM’s writing does not particularly read like it was written by a woman. I don’t think IM DOES read like a women writer, but I find that hard to explain without resorting to gender bias – I guess I’m saying she doesn’t read like the majority of women writers I’ve read, has more muscular prose, is more concerned with how things work and the male experience. That’s all seen through cultural definitions of gender, of course, and I don’t think we can help that. We were not concentrating in our discussion on looking for a gender in the essence of the novel, as you can hopefully see from what I wrote, it was one part of what Matthew mentioned in his reading of the book. I think in a way there are woman writers he doesn’t feel would interest him (his loss!) like Austen, whereas IM doesn’t read like that to him (he hasn’t only read the male narrator books, though the other two he’s read are quite male-centric, The Book and the Brotherhood and Good Apprentice). I agree we don’t read IM for the gender issues particularly and I don’t read for that myself. I am rambling now, hope that makes sense!

I was thinking about this, too: had the book been published anonymously or under initials, I think it would have been assumed the author was male. I’m not sure I’d attribute that to a lack of empathy but more to the loner-in-a-crowd persona Jake takes on.

No she definitely doesn’t read as what we would consider to be women’s writing, but I suppose I just want to be a little bit pedantic, as we all are now about gender bias in this day and age, just because if you twist it around a little bit and ask the question why does she have to have these things to be considered female in her writing, and equally why do we attribute the things you mentioned to the male. And why does it matter anyway? It just sort of makes me want to ask those sort of questions, but then writing is often assigned gender in that sort of instinctive way when you read it and we all do it even though that might not be anything to do with what’s actually in the book or what themes we pull out of it. Of course, I know that isn’t what you were looking at it’s just me niggling at the issue a little bit.

It will be interesting to see the different angles people take and the inspiration they take from other people’s reviews. I did force that assertion out of my husband as he was struggling to explain why he thought she didn’t read “like a woman writer”!

I think the reason she doesn’t “read like a woman author” is that she is as interested in male characters as females. Her characterisation is one of my favourite things about IM and her male characters do seem stronger to me. One of the things that first blew me away about her writing was her understanding of the human psyche – both male and female (if indeed they really are different.)

Thank you for your comment and welcome to the blog! Yes, I agree, although other women write men of course, she does seem more interested in them. I found a real theme last time of horrible artificial women who are put in a very negative light! And I agree on her understanding of humanity in general, which is why she repays a re-read or two or three!

Hey Liz, I am still re-reading the novel – it takes me longer than I wish to read any book (time is an issue), hopefully I’ll share some thoughts when I finish it or if I have something interesting to say while I am reading it. Even if I don’t say anything, I would like to let you know that I participate silently (very appropriate word for this particular novel, eh? :)) and I support your wonderful initiative. And btw I would be dead nervous of doing it in front of the Murdoch scholars too 🙂

Just a few comments. I love reading everyone’s thoughts – so stimulating. My primary interest is always IM, herself, what she is trying to do etc. So what was going on historically and more particularly, in her own personal life is, I think worth keeping in mind. As for gender concerns, being so much a social construct (even leaving a place for biology!), the treatment of it is always fascinating when considered in relation to the time of writing. And I imagine IM may have often chosen first person, male narrators to enjoy the challenge this gave her as a female.

The themes of did-illusionment and acceptance of contingency always make me think of a strong embracing of post-modernity. Did she ever use the term? I would think she must have done but have not come across it.

As always I laughed aloud a few times. This will not be a favourite for me though. It is too plot-led for me. May be that and the clever structuring are what causes many people to rate it so highly??

Thank you for your thoughts, too! I have a contrasting view to you, in that I try to view books separately from their authors, however it’s difficult when you’re fascinated by someone to always do that!

I’m not sure about IM’s relationship with post-modernism / modernity. I know she wasn’t massively keen on critics and literary theory, preferring to appeal directly to readers (or maybe I picked that out of her interviews because it matched her thesis!).

The humour is very apparent, isn’t it. I think all her books are plot-led to a degree, but the depth isn’t so apparent in this one; it’s not my favourite for the same reason, but a jolly good first novel!

My first ever IM read and how very engaging it was. Unexpectedly amusing and frothy, set against some profound musings on the human condition and the nature of life itself. I have very much enjoyed reading your summary, Liz, and the comments of your other contributors. On the question of themes, it will be interesting to start spotting them for myself as I read more IM. I also feel that I will need to re-read UTN at some point – with a book like this, I think you need the first run through to get the story out of the way, and then you can come back to it to delve down through the layers.

Oh, how wonderful that you liked it so much – hooray! The humour does tend to surprise people, and you will find it all the way through. And yes, you’re right, they do reward a re-read (or a re-re-read, etc.). Have you reviewed it on your blog, too? If so, please do share the link here.

I am almost finished, I really enjoyed this book the first time around, and enjoying it again like it is the first time again!! A few lines I took photos of this time to remember them, funny lines, and just plain wonderful ones too. 🙂 eg:
“Trains are bad for the nerves at the best of times.” & “There’s nothing that irritates me so much as paying rent.”

This must be the fifth or sixth time I’ve read Under the Net. I originally came to it after having read a number of other Murdoch novels and found it so very different that I didn’t know what to think. The picaresque and comic elements threw me; they didn’t match my image of Murdoch at the time, nor did the greater political and social focus. On my second reading, I loved it. I was and still am amazed by Murdoch’s confidence at such an early point in her career, her ability to capture the rhythms of Jake’s narration. I often reread the first paragraph. It sets the tone so well and is so amusing. I eventually taught it to a Freshman English class and was surprised by how well they received it. I find that, at least in American college reading lists, it is often singled out as the one Murdoch to read. I can see why it is chosen as a good entry point for her philosophy – and because it’s short – but I do feel it’s not quite fair. I love the book but she is so much more.

Wonderful comment, thank you. I can remember being a bit disappointed by this and I don’t think it is representative of her work as a whole, even though, as I say, it contains so many of her themes and interests. I’ve come to love it on re-reading it, too.

I’m used to writing long rather academic pieces about Iris Murdoch’s novels which a) does not seem appropriate for this project and b) I don’t have time to do, but I don’t want to fail to say something! So just 2 short observations. First, I must have read Under the Net 10 times at least, and I never fail to laugh out loud again, both at the scene where Jake & Finn rescue Mister Mars from the flat and the taxi driver opens the cage with ease, and also at the round of singing in the Post Office. Only Amis’s Lucky Jim (written at the same time) can also make me laugh every time. It’s easy to forget how FUNNY Murdoch can be. Second, I think everything we see in Murdoch’s mature work is here in embryo in her debut novel which is a towering achievement for a novelist at the outset of her career. Now on to The Flight from the Enchanter! 🙂

Sorry that I have come to the party so late, but I just wanted to add my response on re-reading Under the Net straight through for pleasure and not for academic reasons. Like Frances I am always struck by how funny it is and as well as the Mr Mars scenes, I love the absurdity of the scene when Jake visits the Wallace Collection to reflect in front of Frans Hals’ painting of the Cavalier. When he comes to a decision I am taken by surprise by the way the Cavalier is reported as saying ‘An entertaining story’ and ‘I applaud your decision.’ Murdoch makes no further reference to this – this is stylish writing.

Also this time I was moved by the whole section in Paris and particularly Jake’s account of his complex relationship with Paris which he compares to a person one loves who always causes pain, as he arrives with high expectations and leaves sadder but wiser.

The other thing I enjoyed especially was the affection and sensitivity of the descriptions of the dog and the tenderness of Jake’s relationship. Here the humour prevents it from being sentimental. As well as the fabulous cage scene, I loved the scene where Jake makes his escape from the Belfounder Studios by instructing Mars to play dead and then revives him when he is clear of the police cordon.

Anyway I have said quite enough of Under The Net and I will now immerse myself in The Flight from the Enchanter.

Thank you for your comment, Maria, that’s lovely. You’re right about the Paris bit; I don’t recall anyone else being like that about the city. And the dog stuff is lovely, isn’t it. A bit reminscent of the parrot in Book and the Brotherhood.

This has been a much slower process than I had planned, but I’m almost finished Under the Net. It took me a while to get into, but I have just had a nice little run in the middle of the story with the fire escape scene, kidnapping/rescuing Mr Mars and the fall of Rome set at the studio. The trip to Paris was a romantic, poignant contrast after all that madcapping mayhem around London.

I had hoped to finish the book tonight, but I think life has gotten in the way again….it’s been that kind of year so far *sigh*

Thank you for commenting and I’m glad you’re persisting and getting something out of it. That is a wonderful section of the book! I am a bit stuck on a giant review book myself at the moment! Happy reading, when you do get the chance!

Liz, thanks so much for alerting me to your review of this novel (and the broader readalong project itself). It’s fascinating to read your take on it, particularly the idea that it feels like an overture or distillation of Murdoch’s key themes – that’s really interesting to hear. As you know, I found it much more approachable than I had expected – warmer and funnier in terms of tone and characterisation, with the farcical elements working beautifully alongside the more cerebral reflections on human nature. I’m so glad I finally took a chance on this author. If her debut is anything to go by, it seems I have a lot of wonderful reading ahead. Bring on The Bell!

I’m so pleased you found so much to enjoy in this lovely novel and that you’ve got so much out of having a look through our discussions. It’s nice to think about this one as I reach the end of the project (I’m reading “The Green Knight” at the moment, another excellent one I would recommend). I hope you get as much joy from your next IM reads and pop over to share your thoughts!